


Morning

by Lastavica



Series: The Days Ahead [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton's Farm, Clint and Laura Barton's Family, Dealing With Trauma, Family, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Losing a friend, Memorials, One Shot, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Ronin Clint Barton, facing the every day struggle, grieving together, perseverance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lastavica/pseuds/Lastavica
Summary: Clint likes to be alone in the morning.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Laura Barton & Natasha Romanov
Series: The Days Ahead [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192214
Kudos: 11





	Morning

Clint stepped quietly out onto the front porch, careful not to let the screen door slam behind him. Laura and the kids were still sleeping. The fall morning was chilly and damp. Sunshine gleamed low through the trees. It was perfect. A morning dove greeted him with her gentle coo. He wiped down the dewy top step with a kitchen towl and sat down with his steaming mug of coffee. He looked out across the yard and breathed. Glistening red and yellow leaves littered the cool wet grass all around the house. He loved the solitude of morning and the comfort of having his family close. Slowly he sipped his coffee and let his mind wander. The early morning was his time to think and be alone. Shame and grief still dogged him and getting his family back after everything that happened, everything he'd done was difficult. He was so happy, but it was still hard. He talked to Laura, tried to be honest. They both knew his penchant for distancing himself. What happened with Loki had been a real struggle for them. Shame and grief. Same story. But he was trying.

His thoughts, as they always did, turned to Natasha. Missing her was the hardest part of it all. Once his mug was empty he got up and headed around the back of the house and toward the treeline. His quiet approach surprised a deer and it bounded away into the woods. At the edge of the yard a little boulder leaned against a tree. Cooper had spent hours with his tools, flattening off the top and carefully carving Natasha's name into its side with a simple phrase: Our hero. Cooper was a concise person and he spoke for the whole family. The tree's trunk was wrapped around with colorful string. Atop the rock there was a baseball from Nate and notes tucked under small stones, left for the rain and wind to the disintegrate. Lila had been leaving a new note every Sunday. Laura would go out with her each time. They would stand together, Laura with her arm around her daughter. Clint always watched their ritual from the house. There was a now sun bleached picture of Natasha with the two oldest kids. It was tucked under a rock painted blue by Nate. He was old enough to miss her too. Clint wished he wasn't. There were sticks and pebbles and anything the family wanted to share with Natasha. Clint never left anything for her but he visited all the time. There was a little windchime that was hung there too. He would always ring it when he came. It just seemed right.

The Barton family had spent their first week back together cleaning out their five-years-abandoned home. It had been weirdly cathartic for Clint and helped give the family perspective on the situation. When their house was again liveable Laura decided they needed to make a memorial for Natasha. She could not accept that Nat's body was left alone on a cold planet in deep space. The memorial wasn't enough but it's what she had. It helped the kids grieve and discouraged Clint from burying Nat deep inside himself with his shame, and retreating there. So, out in the open and under the sky, Clint spent time with Natasha's memory.

He just stood there in front of the tree and the big rock with her name on it, focusing on his breathing.

"Think I can be a family man today?" He asked. Only a woodpecker in the distance replied. Natasha loved the woods at his house and she loved the sound of woodpeckers. Since her death he always let himself pretend they were her talking to him. It made him feel better.

He looked down at his tattooed arm. "Think they'll still want me around?" He closed his eyes. Shame was so familiar to him and still it hurt so much. A crispy breeze rose the goosebumps on his arms and he smiled. He let out a slow breath. "Thanks, Nat."

"Dad!" Lila's voice called from the back door.

He turned to see his daughter in her pajamas. "Yeah, sweetie?"

"You want pancakes?"

Clint smiled. "I'm in."

"K!" she said and let the screen door slam behind her.

He looked back at Nat's tree. "You want pancakes?"

A woodpecker sounded again, much closer this time. Clint chuckled and headed through the wet leaves back to the house.


End file.
